Bobbing for Turnips
by WorldInvent
Summary: Halloween is supposed to be my holiday, but things have certainly been turned on their head this year.


"I brought the turnips!"

I spin around from my table laden with popcorn, candy corn, caramel dipped apples, and other such appropriate holiday delicacies to find my living room being invaded upon by a group of goblins. They are in their normal state of joyous disaster, except this time one of them is carrying a rather large tub and others several sacks of, well yes indeed, turnips.

"What the-!" I begin to exclaim as they descend.

"Happy Halloween Lady Authoress!" one of them yells.

"Spook-a-licious!" exclaims another admiring my choice in decorations.

Another squeals all too delighted, "Pumpkins!"

"Dink, Fash, Meep, Blot- what are you all doing here?" I ask slightly panicked.

The goblins look quizzically at me. "We're here for the party," explains Fash adjusting his spectacles. "Duh."

True I was throwing a party; a Halloween party. But it was supposed to be a friends only affair; maybe a few coworkers and a neighbor or two sort of party; a human party. Why had the characters from several of my fandom stories decided to crash my shindig? My hand is on my forehead attempting to massage the skin only to quickly realize that I will smear my makeup. _Shoot_, I think seeing the white paint on my finger tips.

"Look fellas," I begin to say. I assess the group. I had everything from Rocky Horror Picture Show extras to getups that would have served well at Mardi Gras. "Is that a keg?" I then ask. "Whoa there! I don't think that is such a good idea!"

No, not a very good idea at all. They have completely caught me off guard this night. The images conjured in my mind of drunken, frivolous, pointless mayhem brought on by consuming too much ale or beer or whatever was in that keg was inducing a bit of fear. Not to mention the horrific possibilities to be had with those turnips. With human friends arriving there would be little I could do to explain or contain the situation.

Yet there I stood in my costume dumbfounded by their arrival.

Ding-dong!

My door bell rings. The goblins have some how managed to bring out what resembles a plastic kiddie pool and have begun to fill it with an oddly tinted green liquid. _Are those bendy straws?_

Ding-dong!

Holding my makeup smeared hand aside I go to the door praying that whoever it is will either be gullible enough to fool or stupid enough not to notice.

"Ah-ha!" I cry out after opening the door. The couple standing before me is definitely not any of my past, present, or remotely future acquaintances.

"Jack maybe this isn't such a good idea," says the red haired, blue skinned lady.

"It's a perfect idea Sally," retorts Jack (who's skeleton head is far more shiny up close). He regards me with his large dark eye sockets. "Greetings!" he says with flourish.

"Umm, hello."

Jack continues to speak while Sally looks sheepish. "I know we're early, but you know me and Halloween- I'm just so gun-ho about it! We brought some treats too. Sally."

She holds up a platter covered in what I sincerely hope are confection, edible, sugar spiders.

"Uh, well, how lovely!"

_Roll with it girly_, I tell my self.

"Come in, won't you?" I make room for them to pass.

"Jack! Sally!" yell the goblins in one joyous chorus of greeting.

"Why hello everyone!" greets Jack.

Sally stops briefly and bends near me. "You've got makeup on your hand," she says sweetly.

During her brief pause I am certain I see one of the spiders twitch. "Yes, I know thank you."

I can live with goblins. I can make do with fairies. I can even cope with spiders. I can and do work around every sort of crazy creature every day of every week of every year. Those who hail from the Underground are always friends. But when creatures that are not of my crafting begin making appearances then something is slightly off-kilter with the world. Gingerly I close the door praying that at the very least the universe will take pity on me and not send in the gang from Scooby Doo.

Something smells terribly odd. Making my way through the goblins and dodging one of Jack's long appendages I make my way towards the kitchen. Dink is perched next to my stove on which a pan is frying up something. "Fried turnips!" he tells me happily.

Blot is reclining in my sink fascinated with one of my sponges. "Writing Lady you got makeup on your hand," he says looking concerned.

Ding-dong!

I admonish Dink not to burn the turnips for he is using my good pan and make a solid threat to Blot to not eat the sponge, and make a dash back to the living room. Over the next twenty minutes I am greeted by an array of characters, most of which are not my own. I am puzzled, shocked, concerned, surprised; some times happy and other times mortified. What does one do with a Jabberwocky who is dressed as Tony Manero and has even brought along his own disco sound track? Or when a skeleton is so tipsy that he starts mistaking Princess Fiona for Sally? What does one do?!

Ding-dong!

I leaned against the door very tempted to not let in whoever is waiting patiently. The loud laughter mixed with the vocals of Abba though is too obvious an indication though that there is a party going on.

Ding-dong!

I open the door. "Thank fripp!" I exclaim in relief. "Paisley!"

Yes it is fellow fanfic writer PaisleyRose, my surrogate mother and good friend. A human with a better knack than myself for dealing with the fantastical.

"Hello love!" She bends near to give me a hug. "Oh watch the hand there- I don't want you smearing makeup on my costume."

She's dressed as a gypsy complete with bells around her ankles. I hold my hand up and away from either of our bodies. At the same moment Fash is at my side tugging on my hem.

"Lady Authoress, do you have any ice?"

"Whatever for?"

"Mixed drinks are hardly worth having without ice."

I pull a face. "Are you making turnip flavored drinks?"

"Goodness, no! We're making peach flavored drinks!"

"Naturally. I should have known."

"That and we're considering an ice sculpture competition."

I have nothing much to say to that. "In my freezer. But leave my frozen vegetables alone, you hear me!"

I look back to Paisley who has a mighty strange glint in her eye. "Goblins," she says. "You've got goblins about and," here she pauses and nearly shudders. "Peaches!"

"Calm yourself woman! His nibs isn't about."

She mutters some expletive in disappointment. "Then what's with the little green men?"

"Search me- they all just showed up unannounced. But believe you me we've got far bigger fish to handle tonight."

"Like?"

"Try a Jabberwocky."

Again that strange glint. "Oh I wonder if he'll let me ride him! It would be just like riding a dragon!"

Considering the amount of various drinks being consumed inside my living room I conjure up this strange mental image of Jabberwocky riding turning into something akin to electronic bull riding at some dive bar. The sequence was quickly followed up with a giddy Paisley being tossed mercilessly off said beast thus landing in the kiddie pool filled with that strange green liquid; in which case the goblins would begin sucking the brew out of her costume. That level of mayhem just seemed down right dangerous.

I am so lost in my mental movie that I barely hear Paisley's, "Pour me a tall one boys!"

The evening proves to be a messy success. I am constantly running from one room to the next trying to enforce Aboveground rules: "My pillow is not a tissue!"

"No you cannot use the neighbor's cat as a piñata!"

"I don't care what famous goblin fashionista said that- you cannot use my blender to cut hair!"

"Stop playing pin-the-tail-on-Ludo, he is going to bring a landslide down on the neighborhood!"

"Cats are friends, not food- end of discussion!"

"No I will not perform a civil ceremony to wed you to Princess Fiona, Jack!"

"Quit pulling loose threads off of Sally!"

"My kitchen utensils are for food purposes not lobotomies!"

"Put that cat down!"

"Technically everyone chooses the 'treat' over the 'trick'…"

"No you cannot play baseball with the turnips in the house!"

I am exhausted, amused, flabbergasted, and halfway confused by the time midnight rolls round. Sally has to half-carry her inebriated Jack out. The Jabberwocky has to call a designated flier to help him home. I am left with a passed out Paisley and a group of goblins.

Ding-dong!

Blot bolts up right, "Sponge-y!" he exclaims and then tumbles down asleep again.

I go to the door half wondering what relationship has been established between Blot and my dish sponge and just who could possibly be showing up at this hour. I am convinced that I simply cannot take any more surprises. Opening the door I am met with a man dressed in all black, even with a black mask and head covering. "Trick-or-treat!" He grins.

I furrow my brow. "Jareth? Just what exactly are you supposed to be?"

He strikes a fencing stance. "The Dread Pirate Roberts of course!"

"Oh of course. Tight black clothing- how appropriate."

"I thought so," he adds relaxing.

"Come to collect your property?" I ask stepping aside so he can see into my living room, which now resembles a small war zone.

He let's out a low whistle. "I owe you."

"Big time."

"Fortunes upon fortunes of thanks."

"I gladly accept rubies and gold."

"How about pearls and silver?"

"Twenty chests- no less."

"Shall I emboss your initials or full name on the locks?"

"Initials will do just fine."

He surveys the room. "I don't think that one belongs to me though."

I shrug. "I hardly think she'd object though."

He grins.

"I will beg off ignorance to anything that grin leads to," I tell him.

"Actually I am here to do more than collect: I am also here to confess."

"What?"

He leans on the doorframe. "I sent them here."

"Who?"

"Them." He waves toward the mess.

"The goblins?"

"Er, everyone."

Again my hand is on my forehead, no doubt I have now left behind a massive hand outline complete with fingerprints. "Of all the holidays, of all the days! Jareth you know that Halloween is my holiday!"

"Yes I do very well know that, which is why I thought you wouldn't mind some real ghouls to liven up the atmosphere. That and…" his voice trailed.

"And what?"

"Look every year my castle becomes the hot spot for Halloween- everyone from all walks of life show up on my door step. This one year Sarah asked if we could be going to a party instead of hosting one."

"So you dump the load on me as if I were some sort of built in babysitter?"

"As if you have any real objections to who showed up?" His eyes regard me shrewdly.

"A little warning wouldn't have hurt."

His eyes wandered from me to the doorframe again. "Would you look at that- mistletoe!"

I look up. "Jack's warped sense of humor."

Without warning he leans forward and kisses my cheek. "Thank you," he says with a smile.

"I still want my embossed treasure chests."

"How about that and I help clean up?"

"Deal!"

We enter the house together.

"Is there anything to drink?"

"I think there's still some drink mix in the kitchen."

"I do hope it's peach flavored."

"Naturally."

"Happy Halloween Lady Authoress."

"Happy Halloween Goblin King."

* * *

Notes:

Happy Halloween indeed to everyone!

Some credits are due here for there was a wide rang of characters mentioned -ahem-

Dink, Blot, Meep, Fash- belong to me

Jareth, Sarah, Ludo- belong to Henson

Jabberwocky- belong to Lewis Carroll

Jack, Sally- belong to Tim Burton

Princess Fiona- (Shrek movie reference) belong to Dreamworks (I think)

Dread Pirate Roberts- (The Rpincess Bride movie reference) belong to...actually heck if I know.

PaisleyRose- belongs to her self. Naturally.


End file.
